


Sustenance

by wildwordwomyn



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Angst, Gen, M/M, Male Friendship, Pre-Slash, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-08
Updated: 2011-05-08
Packaged: 2017-10-19 04:04:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/196665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wildwordwomyn/pseuds/wildwordwomyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dave Rossi observes too much and participates too little.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sustenance

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers in that Hotch has split with his wife and Rossi's been back at the BAU for a while, but that's about it. Takes place around the beginning of season 4. Told from Rossi's POV.

When you've seen the worst of humanity and been made to dance with demons, love seems like a fairytale. There are whole bookshelves filled with poems, songs, novels a thousand pages thick, attesting to the magic of it. But in real life love is rarely so wonderful. Of course, with a track record like yours, you might be a little biased in that opinion. Three ex-wives would agree with you, though, and you have the alimony payments to prove it.

 

You watch Morgan and Reid, whose heads are together as they work on a profile for a current case. They're sitting side by side, looking at Reid's laptop, throwing out different ideas. They work so well together it's inspiring. There's a certain chemistry not apparent with anyone else. When Morgan gazes into Reid's eyes you find yourself smiling. Morgan, you're sure, is not yet aware of exactly how intense his gaze is at this moment, of how much he's focusing on the younger agent, or of the startled flicker that passes through Reid's eyes. When Reid blushes awkwardly Morgan reaches out and hesitates before ruffling his hair in a jocular manner as if the touch is incidental. Morgan is a good man. Honorable, kind, strong, smart. He, like the rest of the group, has a soft spot for the youngest member of the team, although his particular soft spot is larger than he will admit to. You, on the other hand, find yourself having a soft spot for Morgan. He reminds you of Hotch in so many ways.

 

When Hotch first joined the BAU he had such determination, such power visible in his eyes. He'd actually come across as cold. Then he warmed up to you (with your charming personality how could he not?) and suddenly he was very interesting. Young, ambitious, sure, with a wife you could've told him didn't believe in your kind of work. Not that Haley was an unkind woman. She'd just grown up sheltered and insulated. She'd never experienced cruelty in any form, and didn't know how to live with someone who had, who continued to do so every day.

 

Now everyone on the team is beginning to show some wear and tear. Reid and his drug issues. JJ and her fear of losing little Henry to this madness. Emily still holding too much in. Morgan's superhero complex. And Hotch fighting so hard to be strong for all of you that he's failing himself in the process. You're there when he needs a shoulder to lean on if only he'd let himself fall...

 

"Dave?" Hotch calls from behind you, a hint of concern evident in his tone.

 

"Yes?"

 

"I've been calling you for a few minutes...Are you alright?"

 

You give yourself a mental shake to clear your thoughts. "Of course. Nothing a shot of bourbon won't cure." You smile to show you're kidding but he can tell you're only half-lying. "Did you need something, Aaron?"

 

"The case. Have you had a chance to look at it yet? I wanted your opinion on something."

 

You follow Hotch back to his office, talking about an issue with the current profile that's troubling him. He's tired and, from the looks of it, losing weight. How did you not notice before? He's definitely worth a good tongue-lashing or two. Which inevitably brings up the other thoughts you've had over the years about him. Thoughts you've buried that have recently begun to surface full force. He's sitting on the edge of his desk, watching you lean against a wall, obviously waiting for an answer or question or something, and what's going through your head? The fact your lecherous brain so helpfully pointed out of his hip jutting out just a few inches from where your hand lay against your thigh.

 

"You're not eating," you say. It's unexpected since it has nothing to do with the case but someone needs to take care of Hotch and no one can do it better than you. And it's a good distraction.

 

He blinks, confused for a second, then frowns. This lets you know he's losing his touch some. The old Hotch would've ignored the comment as if you'd never spoken and carried on the conversation. "Dave..."

 

"You're losing weight, Aaron. You should take better care of yourself."

 

"Are you my mother now?" He smirks, distracted from the profile.

 

"Your wife. And you're not eating your vegetables." You smile but you don't hide your concern.

 

"My last wife was prettier." The joke makes you laugh out loud. He tells them so rarely it's always a joy when he reveals his dry sense of humor.

 

You grin. "True, but I'm probably a better cook. Next night we're off I'm making you dinner at my place. And I expect you to eat every bite."

 

Conveniently that night off is the next night. You have to literally drag the man out of the office to your car. When he begins to protest you raise an eyebrow. He immediately shuts up and get into the passenger side. Now that he's more amendable you smile and get in on the driver's side. You both buckle up and drive off toward your house. Once inside Aaron heads to the bar and pours himself a small amount of your single malt scotch. He drinks it like a shot before pouring himself some more. You ignore the drinking, figure he's allowed with the way he's been running himself into the ground lately, and begin preparing some steaks for indoor grilling.

 

"Dave?" You close the fridge. "We should have music. What are you in the mood for?" He's standing in the living room in front of your CD tower.

 

"Why not some classical?"

 

You watch his back, thinking how straight and strong it looks on the outside, but the exhaustion is clear in the slight dip of his shoulders and the uncomfortable curve at the bottom of his spine. When you burn the tip of you index finger taking too long to test the grill you blink and turn back to the task at hand, wondering why it is that you get so easily caught up in thinking about Hotch. Even after all these years.

 

Nothing more than dinner will happen. You're aware of that. Is it the best-case scenario? No, but it is the most realistic one. And as long as you can make the man smile at least once tonight, you'll be a happy man...


End file.
